


Fragments of a Fractured Mind

by fuchsiagrasshopper



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Co-workers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Love/Hate, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:18:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuchsiagrasshopper/pseuds/fuchsiagrasshopper
Summary: Pre & Post season 3.Dex's mind is in pieces after he lost to Fisk and the Devil of Hell's kitchen. He is without a North Star or Dr Mercer's tapes. All he can do is reflect on the one person that made him feel. Not knowing if she is alive or dead is more then he can take. The last time they spoke, they were no longer on the same side. He makes it his mission to return to Hell's Kitchen, to take revenge on his enemies and to see her again.





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Still salty at Netflix for canceling Daredevil, and I don't see that wound healing anytime soon. Sign the petition to save the show if you haven't already. Remember, we are the fandom without fear!

_ Where did it all go so wrong?  _ That was the first thing festering in Dex's mind when he was halfway between consciousness and the abyss on that cold slab of metal. He wasn't a toe-tag stiff yet, but he was far from feeling alive. All he could recall was the numbness left in the wake of Fisk's rampage, followed by fear. It would have been funny for him to think of it as paralyzed by fear, but that was where the true horror stemmed. To lose all sensation and function of his body, one of the few aspects he'd honed his skills to have complete control over, would hardly be a life worth living.

It was too difficult to discern his body's state at present. Nothing felt as if it belonged to him, and the blackness was beginning to swirl behind his eyes. The voices of his past were circling his mind, pestering him at his moment of weakness.

_ Julie, Fisk, Dr. Mercer, Ray, Murdock, Karen Page, Hattley, Vanessa…Zoe. _

Her voice called out amongst the rest and then became lost in the white noise of the others. He no longer knew who his enemies were, not in the vastness of his hate. They were fragmentary pieces in his fractured mind.

In the distance, a drill began to sing, or perhaps it was another infernal medical device. When it made contact with his back, Dex's face twisted from agony, then fell lax to the dark.

* * *

 

It was a Tuesday morning. Hattley had herded everyone into the conference room that first hour of the day over a matter of little importance. A member of HR, whose name Dex had disregarded immediately after the man had mentioned it, was wheezing on at the head of the room about the changes being made to their health plans.

Dex had already receded into himself when it got to the part about dependents coverage. The only other matter he was partially aware of in the room was the empty chair between himself and Alvarez. Zoe was late once again. Not that she was missing out on anything dire. In a way, he judged himself for not having the sense to arrive late on a day like today. But that could never happen. He wouldn't risk the unrest that would come from a break in routine.

His vague thoughts ceased when the door to the conference room was flung open. The metal handle made a horrible crash against the wall, and tucked up against the door was Zoe. She was holding a tray of coffee cups close to her person. A fifth cup was stacked precariously on top of the other four, the last likely being for herself.

“Sorry about that,” She said, with no effort of keeping her voice down in shame. “The handle slipped.”

She started into the room, unfazed at all the eyes of the room on her while she passed. Her jacket was still on, and she had a light dusting of snow scattered throughout her auburn hair. She stumbled a moment, her large glasses becoming askew on her nose. Her heeled boot had caught on the projector cord, causing it to come unplugged. The man from HR made a sound of grievance as his presentation shut off.

“Oh excuse me,” said Zoe, looking over her shoulder a moment before continuing to her seat.

She began handing out the drinks she had purchased. One to Ray, who gave her a smile backed up by pity. Next was to Alvarez, who nodded in appreciation. Hattley's brow was stern when it came to her getting her coffee. She indicated to Zoe that she already had one, but the drink was plunked down before her nevertheless.

Dex got his last, and he scowled as he saw his name scrawled in black felt across the side.  **Benjamin** . She must have felt the heat of his glare because she turned to him as soon as she finished folding her coat over the back of her chair.

“It’s cream with no sugar,” She said with a flutter of her eyes.

He'd enforced his preference to be called Dex with her a number of times. She either ignored the request or forgot entirely, and he honestly leaned towards the latter.

“Benjamin?” He huffed.

“Oh,” she breathed a laugh. “Do you prefer Ben?”

Dex turned away with a roll of his shoulder. “Not really.”

She looked as if a question was forming on her lips, but Dex never got to hear what it was. The man from HR had given up on his battle of making the projector work. He returned to the head of the room, quickly shooting an irritated frown at Zoe.

“I can't get the presentation to load. You'll just have to read the rest of the information yourselves in the email and pamphlets I sent out. Any other questions can be forwarded to my office.”

As he began packing up, everyone else stood in relief. Zoe's clumsiness had saved them another ass-numbing hour in those chairs. In fact, she was the only one still seated, a face marred in obliviousness at the favor she had just paid to her colleagues.

“McClung,” Hattley called. “In my office, please.”

Zoe leaped to attention when being addressed. “Yes, ma'am.”

As soon as Hattley was gone from the room, Zoe's shoulders sank. “One of these days, she's going to have me transferred.”

“I wouldn't worry about it,” said Nadeem in passing. “You haven't even been here a full year, she's got to give you your chance to pay your dues first.”

To Zoe, those words appeared to be of little comfort. “I suppose,” she replied, her voice small.

The room was nearly empty as everyone walked away without a second glance at Zoe. Dex was close to the door when he remembered his coffee. As he turned back around, she already had the cup in her hand, offering it to him with her arm outstretched.

The aloof look on her face from earlier had been replaced by a more severe manner that he had seen her wear when she was at her desk or out on an operation. Despite her carefree, almost bizarre personality, she was not to be mistaken for someone who was remiss at her job. Her efforts seemed to go unnoticed by Hattley, who would not give her the time of day.

Dex nodded cordially as he took the cup from her. She gave a smile back. Their fingers had touched, and hers had still held a chill from the cold outside.

“Guess I'd better go see what the damage is.” She started to pack up her things, brushing by him in a warm rush of air. The tension in her was palpable.

“McClung,” Dex called, and for a moment he was surprised it was his voice that had spoken.

She stood at the door jamb, watching him curiously. All of the things he should have been saying to ease her worries weren't coming to mind. The stretch of silence was lasting so long that he was desperate to latch on to anything clever to say. It wasn't like when he was volunteering at the hotline. Reality didn't give him a script to read off from.

He put his head down and gave a defeated sigh under his breath. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Her face turned quizzical, but the tightness in her shoulders slackened. “You're alright Poindexter. Next time you can return the favor if only to give me the excuse to keep talking to you.”

He wanted to ask why she'd want to do that, but she had already gone from the room. It was probably better for her not to keep Hattley waiting any longer anyway.

Dex headed for his own desk, sipping at his drink. He frowned from the bitter taste, wondering idly how Zoe had managed to guess he didn't take sugar in his coffee. She was perceptive, and he couldn't decide if that was good or bad for him. Only time would tell.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dex and Zoe start to know each other after work ends.

It was the end of a workday, not unlike many others before it. Most of the agents were already off duty or finishing the final paragraph of a report that was past due. Dex was still seated at his desk, getting ahead on his paperwork when most agents were behind. He was usually one of the last to leave the office, and always the second to arrive after Hattley.

When there wasn't a mission in progress or an important case pending, the agents with families were always the first to clock out early. Nadeem had left the office an hour ago, along with a handful of other agents before the sun had even gone down. Then those with a significant other had soon followed. 

You could tell an agent's situation just by looking at the pictures on their desk. It seemed everyone was either married, in the middle of a relationship, or at the end of the cycle with a divorce. Dex didn't fit into one of the three molds. He was just alone.

“You're still here Poindexter?” said Hattley. She was on her way out. Jacket on, leather bag in hand, and all of the winter clothing fixings wrapped tight up to her neck. “I don't want to be sitting at my desk with a novel, just keep those reports clean and concise.”

“I'm working on it,” He said back with a brief glance at her sour face.

She nodded, and began to move away from his desk, but not before getting the last word in. “And for God's sake, go home and get some sleep. You're no good to us at half capacity.”

Her parting words of boss-like advice went unanswered. Dex sat in tense silence, dreading the idea of sleep. Julie had been busy as of late, and with her schedule full, it left his woefully empty. It was no good to be near her when she was surrounded by other people, so that left him stuck at home between his bed and the pale moonlight.

“Getting ahead on work, look at you busy beaver.”

Dex's eyes snapped up to Zoe, who had managed to startle him from his thoughts. He had forgotten she was still there at her desk around the corner, though judging by her coat and scarf that were haphazardly thrown on, she was on her way out as well.

“You're here late,” he replied back with a glint in his eye.

“Trying to set a better example for Hattley,” She said with a shrug. “But I think it gets to a point that my being here can only do more harm than good. Don't want to hurt my chances, so I'm calling it a night.”

“You know your limits.”

“You should get to know yours as well,” She said cheekily. “Catch you later, Ben.”

Zoe shot him a wink before traipsing her way out of the office. His grip on his pen tightened. The action was so familiar, and not something he felt was there between them. They were work colleagues who occasionally spoke over coffee. Nadeem, Alvarez, and Lim were colleagues who he respected and considered to be good agents. It had never occurred to him to even consider McClung as anything other than the new transfer, and she wasn't even that anymore. She'd been with their branch for almost ten months.

The humming of a vacuum had his attention shift to the back of the office. The cleaning crew had arrived, and he hadn't noticed. Frowning, he started to organize his paperwork and shut down his computer. It seemed his usefulness had run its course. He wouldn't be able to get anything more done now.

As he stepped into the elevator, he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling around for his keys. The ringing in his head was like a siren, and nothing seemed to be able to silence the noise. He hadn't needed to listen to Dr. Mercer's tapes for quite a while, but it would still be too early to sleep when he got to his apartment. It seemed he would have to fall back on relying on an old crutch to make it through the night.

When he reached the main lobby of the building, he could see through the doors that the snow had stopped falling. The wind was bitter against his cheeks as he pushed the door open, and traffic was moving with haste now that peak hours had gone by. His eyes flicked to the side and he spotted Zoe perched against the building. She didn't immediately notice his approach, her eyes turned to her phone and his steps drowned out from the cars.

“Thought you'd gone home,” he said, watching her closely as her eyes flitted up to meet his.

Her smile was bright, and she pushed up from the wall with her foot. “Oh hey. No, I'm still waiting for my cab.”

Dex frowned. “Where's your car?”

“I don't have one.”

“You don't have a car.” Her face was flushed, but he wasn't certain if it was from the cold or if he had embarrassed her. “How do you get around?”

“It's a big city, I use public transit. It takes too long to drive anywhere anyway,” she countered, shifting from one foot to the other. “And financially speaking, it came down to the choice of having a roommate to save money for a car or live alone and forgo the vehicle. I hate having a roommate. Not sure why I'm telling you about this.”

Dex didn't either. “I live alone and have a car. Guess that means I'm a better investor than you,” He said with a smirk.

“I'm pretty sure there are many things you're better at than I am.”

Dex felt hot around the collar at her praise, and he started to fidget in place. “Probably.”

A silence fell over them and he wondered if she felt uncomfortable. She barely made a move to indicate as such. “Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then.”

Fog formed in the air as she spoke, and hung between them even after she resumed her waiting position. Dex thought he would have been long gone by now, but his feet remained rooted in place. He felt heavy, and he had no idea what to do with his hands.

“Hey, McClung,” He called. “Do you want a ride?”

_ ‘What are you doing, Dex?’ _

It was too late to take it back. Zoe was coming at him with a bewildered expression. 

“This isn't a pity invitation, is it? I really don't mind taking a cab.”

“It's nothing like that. I…” He paused, grappling for words. “You're not the only one with something to prove to Hattley. I think she's decided I'm not much of a team player.”

“Really, I can't imagine why,” Zoe retorted. She smiled, assuring she meant nothing by it. “Alright, Poindexter, I'll take you up on that offer, but at least let me buy you dinner.”

Dex rolled his eyes. “You don't have to do that. It's not like you're taking advantage of the situation, this is a one time deal.”

“Yeah, I don't care about that. I'm hungry, and I've been on a quinoa power bowl kick lately. My treat, take it or leave it.”

“Fine, whatever,” he said with a huff. This was turning into a huge mistake. 

Without a word, he began to lead the way to his car. He could hear her footsteps following behind, and she was tall enough that she caught up to him in a few strides. If she was bothered by his abrupt turn to silence, she didn't let on about it. 

They made it to his car, both sliding inside in the same swift motion. His keys let out a jingle, breaking the quiet while he started the engine.

“Can I ask you something?”

"You're going to whether or not I say yes,” he pointed out and she let out a laugh.

“You’ve got me there,” she said. “Everyone calls you Dex and not Ben. I didn't realize you preferred that. I'm sorry.”

“That's not really a question.”

“I guess not.” She reached for her seatbelt, fastening the buckle and then stared straight ahead. “I'll work on it.”

“You're strange, McClung,” he said as he drove the car out of the office lot. 

“So are you, Dex.”

He wasn't sure if she was baiting him to reply, but he let it hang in the air between them until she turned away in favor of the window. As much as he didn't want to be out having dinner with a work colleague, he had to acknowledge that it served as a perfect distraction. The loud noises in his head had vanished, and only the sound of her calling him Dex remained.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who left Kudos and bookmarked! Comment below and let me know your thoughts.


	3. Trustworthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to know one another over quinoa power bowls.

Dex had never tried a quinoa power bowl before, but he had to admit he could see the appeal. It was a healthy choice, if not cliche and trendy. The food fit the atmosphere of the restaurant; low maintenance decor in dim lighting. He'd counted at least three people in faded jeans and Ugg boots. If it was summer he expected they'd be switched out for capris and Birkenstocks.

Zoe had been silent on the way there after giving him the directions. Occasionally he would survey her through his peripheral vision, the passing streetlights casting a warm glow over her as she faced the window. He had not been able to get an inkling over what she was thinking.

Now as they sat at the restaurant in one of the stiff faux leather booths, she had returned to her usual chipper self. Dex felt he was reverting back to form as well, a bad case of the jitters starting when he couldn't seem to keep his right leg still.

“So a fair trade then, a ride for food,” Zoe said as she stirred her straw around in her iced tea. Their empty bowls sat in the center of the table, pushed together by happenstance.

“I guess, yeah.”

“Hey, but the transaction's not complete yet. You still have to take me home.” She leaned back in her seat, peering at him through her thick lenses. “I wouldn't mind talking some more first. I don't really know much about you.”

“Why did you transfer here?” Dex asked, and she looked surprised by his sudden forwardness. He only jumped at the opportunity because he didn't want her to ask him something first.

“Well, it wasn't actually my first choice to come here. I needed out of my old job in New Jersey, and this branch had an opening. No one was clambering for a spot in Hell's Kitchen it seemed.”

“No shit. What was so bad in New Jersey that you came here?”

“I worked in the Behavioural Analysis Unit,” She said.

It wasn't difficult to put the rest together, but Dex couldn't imagine why she had chosen to work in the investigation of violent crime. She was too... delicate.

“I think I was still under the delusion that I could be the next John Douglas or something like that, but it didn't take me long to figure out that I couldn't cut it in that line of work. So I looked for an out, and I took it.”

“Too bad you got saddled with us,” said Dex.

Zoe chuckled. “Oh no, you guys are alright, except for maybe Hattley. Or maybe it's me. My last boss seemed glad to be rid of me too.”

“It's because you're hard to lead.” That had slipped out without him meaning for it to. Zoe didn't appear to appreciate the criticism.

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, well.” Her hard stare rattled him, and he looked down at his hands in his lap, clenched so tight they were white at the knuckles. “On missions, you can be reckless.”

“And you can be excessive,” she countered. Dex turned a hard look of indignation on her but she didn't falter. “I'm sorry, did I say something you didn't want to hear.”

“Right,” he sighed. “Let's just drop that then.”

She nodded, running a hand through her hair. “That's a good idea. I was having a good time until just now.” 

Dex found that hard to believe. He was terrible company to be in and he had managed to block her attempts at getting to know him at every turn.

“What about your family, are they here in Hell's Kitchen too?” 

The family was always a good topic to bring up, as he had discovered with other work colleagues. Usually, they couldn't stop bullshitting the details about their loved ones, and that kept him from having to say anything.

“Oh God no. My parents are still down in Jersey, and my brother lives in Memphis. None of them were exactly thrilled at my move to the city, but they knew I was miserable in my work.” She paused a moment, and he watched as her hand glided down her glass, her fingers collecting tiny droplets of condensation. “What about your family?”

Dammit, she hadn't stewed in that topic as long as he had anticipated. He swallowed, and his right leg ceased its incessant tapping. “No siblings and my parents are gone.”

Here came the part he hated. A flash of sympathy and pity in the eyes. She reached her hand out across the table, forgetting that both of his were out of reach beneath it. “I'm sorry I brought it up. That must be awful.”

“It's hard, very hard,” he said, his eyes unblinking.

She retracted her hand, and something he couldn't understand flitted across her face. “I'm sure it is.”

Was it doubt? She didn't seem to take his answer as sincere. Dr. Mercer never instructed him on what to do if that happened. He felt like he was drowning, and Zoe was the lifeboat pulling away from him.

“I think that's enough for tonight. You still have to drive back to your place after dropping me off, and it's getting late,” She said, already stepping out of the booth to slide into her jacket.

No, it wasn't, it was only eight thirty.

Just a moment ago he would have been glad to be wrapping up the evening. It would have been on his terms, but now that Zoe was in such a rush, he was angry. It felt like she was bailing on him. Sometimes his own thoughts were exhausting, and he tried his best to shove them down.

The walk back to the car was spent with them having no eye contact. Dex slammed his car door with a little more force than was needed while Zoe's made the smallest clink shut. Once she had her seat belt on, she leaned forward and imputed her address into the GPS for him to follow. 

Aside from listening to the computer's voice on which turns to make, Dex was finding it difficult to focus. He never realized how different it was to associate with a work colleague outside of work. He could talk to another agent well enough when it was about a mission, but he'd never been faced with social interaction, at least not since his time served in the military. Wade Wilson had been as close as he'd come to having a friend, but only because he was so obnoxious that he could do the talking for both of them.

Friendship, was that what Zoe's aim had been? If so, she had failed miserably. Or maybe he was the failure, he wasn't certain. Dr. Mercer had said he needed a North Star, but he already had Julie. He saw little point in keeping Zoe around.

When he pulled up to her apartment building, the street was quiet. She lived around the corner from Little Italy, a part of the city that was made up of older residents. That explained most of the lights being out at this hour. The streets had been plowed of snow, making it easy to pull right up to the curb.

Dex thought she would have moved like lightning to get out of his car and to the safety of her building. He watched her closely, but she remained still except to turn her head to face him.

“I'm sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what,” Dex replied with a frown.

“I was annoying, before at the restaurant. I can talk about myself and unload all of my past on a person, so I just assume it's the same for everyone. You're not like that. You didn't want to let me get to know you, and that's fine. I just... I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that,” He pointed out. “That's too many sorries for one thing. It's fine, but you're right about me. I don't like to let people know me, and that means everyone, not just you.”

“Glad to know it's not exclusive,” She said, a playful smile gathering on her face. “Doesn't mean we can't be friends though. I don't need to know everything about you to know you're someone I trust.”

Dex was glad it was dark in the car because he could feel a flush creeping up his neck to his ears.

“I trust you too.” He said, clearing his throat. It was hard to relinquish the stoic demeanor he had built up, but he owed Zoe that much after putting her through an awkward evening.

“Good, that means I'll have your back with Hattley. Special Agent Poindexter, the best team player I know.” 

Dex rolled his eyes. “And I'm meant to promise the same?”

“You catch on quick, Dex. I knew you were trustworthy. Don't be afraid to sing my praises when she's within earshot.” She reached into her purse, taking out a pad and a pen to jot down a short line. “Here,” she said, sticking it to his dashboard. It was her number. “Proper friends should keep in touch.”

“Thanks. I'll get back to you with mine,” He promised.

That final exchange signaled the end of their night. It was a good note to leave on. Zoe unclipped her seat belt and adjusted her scarf before reaching for the door handle. “Well, good night Dex. I'm glad I haven't scared you off yet.”

He watched her go around the car and into the nook of the front door before disappearing inside.

“Likewise,” he said aloud to himself while peeling the post-it note from his dash. 

For a brief moment, he thought about crumpling the paper and throwing it away. It would have been the easy choice, but something stopped him. Zoe wasn't a selfless, kind person willing to save everyone. Not like Julie was. She couldn't possess those qualities while working for the bureau, yet she had a spirit that was fierce and determined, perhaps to make up for the job she had failed at in New Jersey. He still didn't know what she could be to him. Not a North Star. Maybe he just needed her nearby.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are super, I really wasn't sure that there would be an audience for this, but you are out there, and I hope I can manage to make something that will catch on with many more of you. As always, comment and kudos below, and stay fearless!


	4. Excessive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dex reflects on a past FBI raid

_ The Present _

The next time Dex awoke, he was no longer lying face down on a metal table. He was in a dark room on a bed in four-point restraints. The knowledge of being tied down would have bothered him more if he didn't already feel spent. All of his strength had been sapped from his body, and he didn't know if it was even possible to move his legs.

His heavy eyes did the best they could at a sweep of the room, and he found himself alone. The blinds on the single window were drawn, and he could pick up the distinct sound of the machines around him, but no voices. He swallowed, his throat dry and tight as if coated in sand, and he tried to call out for someone. The words wouldn't come, and he wondered if that was for the best. He was in no rush to meet the person who had done this to him.

Dex closed his eyes and thought about Zoe. If circumstances were different, and he was injured in a hospital, would she be at his bedside with him? It was a possibility he chose to dwell on, even if it did no good to speculate. He decided that she would be there, perhaps asleep in a chair. It would be the most reassuring sight to lay his eyes on, and he wouldn't look away. Before, when a similar situation had occurred, he had been there for her…

* * *

Weeks had passed since the night Zoe had presented Dex with her phone number. Sometimes he wondered if it would have been for the better if he had just crumpled it up and thrown it away. Usually, that thought only came to mind when they crossed some new border in their friendship that he was uncomfortable with. The whole idea of having a friend was still new territory for him to navigate, and while it was slow going, Zoe was patient. He believed it was a part of her carefree personality that went so well with his obstinate need for routine. If only Dr. Mercer could see him now.

Work had picked up the pace, which left little time for actual social interaction outside of the office. The bureau's time was taken up with an organized crime syndicate they wanted to dismantle. After all the weeks of investigation, interrogation, and undercover work by Alvarez, they had a location to set up a raid.

Their target was a group of gun runners, and the location was a warehouse on the East Docks. The guns couldn't get to the streets, otherwise, they'd end up sold to the hands of the Dogs of Hell or the Kitchen Irish. They were making their raid at night, which posed certain challenges. The cover of darkness was all well and good, but it also gave the same advantages to their enemy. 

The air was cold, but Dex could hardly feel it through his tactical gear. They were fortunate the forecast called for cloudy with a chance of rain. It was overcast and the moon's light couldn't be seen. There was no sign yet of a raindrop from the sky, only whisperings of the wind as it tickled their faces.

Dex felt restless. He was a member of second squad with the SWAT team, and their orders were to wait for the Task Force to secure the main floor of the warehouse. Zoe was on first squad, the first time they were on separate teams since becoming  _ 'friends _ ’, officially. He'd meant what he said before about her being reckless. It wasn't that she endangered others or the mission, just herself. He didn't know what she'd do if he wasn't there.

Hattley’s decision to not put him on the front line was absurd. He was their best gun, he should be in there. 

_ “The first floor secured with half of first squad advancing to the second floor. SWAT team move in now,” _

The radio cut out, and as squad leader, Alvarez gave the signal for them to follow. Dex thought his legs might outrun his body as they started single file into the warehouse.

It was dim inside, with one of the lights flickering and buzzing like an insect killer. Many of the windows were broken or covered in thick scum that couldn't be seen through. It looked as any normal warehouse should, except for the crates filled with guns and the twelve perps lined up on the floor with their hands folded behind their heads.

Most of the agents from the Task Force had holstered their own firearms, now tasked with cuffing the criminals to take into custody. Dex and second squad still had their guns drawn as they scoped out the expansive area. While the main floor had been secured, there was a rusty set of stairs to the back of the warehouse that led up to the second level. Half of first squad's agents had already gone up.

The police and emergency crews could be heard arriving in cars outside when shots began to ring out from the upstairs.

_ “We have shots fired with two agents down. Requesting backup and any medical assistance,” _

“Second squad, move out,” Alvarez ordered. “Poindexter, and Foster, on me.”

Every ounce of Dex was ready and willing to get this mission done, and he kept up with Alvarez's pace with Agent Foster behind him. They took the steps two at a time until slowing their advance as they rounded to the top. There was no sign of any hostiles as they surveyed the narrow hallway. The shots had ceased, and they continued forward to find the other agents. 

“On the right,” said Alvarez.

They came upon a room with three agents from first squad. Agents Harrow, Nadeem, and McClung. Zoe and Ray were the injured judging by agent Harrow's tense stance keeping guard over them. Ray was huddled up against the wall, a grimace contorting his face.

“Hey Nadeem, you still in there,” Dex called.

“It hurts like a son of a bitch,” Ray replied between gritted teeth.

Other than that colorful response, he was breathing and talking, and that was enough to know a man was alive. Dex had seen many injuries in battle to know the way in which a soldier responded to being wounded varied between the next man. Nadeem was a talker. Zoe was silent.

“What happened,” Dex asked as he crouched down in front of her. She was pale, hair tied up high on her head, and her pupils were completely blown wide from adrenaline. He couldn't remember looking straight into her eyes without her large lenses in front of them. They were brown like toffee.

“Nadeem got hit in the shoulder before I could get him out of the line of fire. I got hit, and he took another to the vest,” she managed to say. 

Her words were fast and Dex could see her favoring her right side. “Where are you hit?”

“It doesn't hurt,” She said quickly. “Just below the vest and above the hip. Fleshy part, I'm not too worried.”

“Ambulance is on site, but they can't come onto the premises until we secure the area,” Alvarez said. “How many are we looking at Harrow?”

“Two,” He said. “Lim and Talbot apprehended one, but the other one gave them the slip.”

“He won't get far. We already have a perimeter set up,” Alvarez said. “Second squad, let's move.”

Dex looked over Zoe once more before following Foster and Alvarez. Any longer around that wounded rabbit look of hers and he was likely to snap and say the wrong thing. He hated when other agents were shot, knowing he could have prevented it if only Hattley had put him in from the start. The familiar itch had started, and his finger was already on the kill-switch. 

The upper loft of the warehouse was a space more cramped with hallways and tiny rooms that the assailant could have easily slipped into. Dex waited until Foster and Alvarez were far enough ahead before breaking away to take his own path. Enough with following orders and playing by the rules. No better way to go about it than his way. He would see it through properly.

The commotion from the operation was pulsing, and his heart pounded in his head as he went on nothing but pure instinct. The backroom he entered was dark, and there was no door on the hinge. Accessible with no noise. The assailant had thought as much because Dex could make out his silhouette in the corner behind the table. He stumbled into the wooden leg, startled that he had been found.

Dex raised his gun. “FBI, don't move.”

It was difficult to make much out through the shadows of the room, but Dex could see the whites of the man's eyes and the wild look on his face. He had a TEC-9 in his hands, the weapon that had wounded Ray and Zoe. Dex’s grip on his own firearm tightened. He may have been outgunned, but he had confidence in his skills.

“I surrender,” said the man.

Dex hated his voice. It was thick and wobbly with emotion. His fellow agents didn't deserve to be injured by this piece of filth. One trigger-happy idiot with a gun could have blown the entire raid, and many other agents could have been shot or killed. The inside of a jail cell was too good an outcome.

“I don't accept it,” Dex said.

He let his hollow words wash over the gunner long enough for them to register. The perp was allowed to raise his gun. Dex welcomed the gesture, it was always a pleasure to see the false hope in his enemy's eyes before he snuffed it out. One squeeze of the trigger and a bullet sailed across the room, straight through the criminal's neck. A head shot would have been too precise.

Blood sprayed into the air, and the man dropped to the ground. Dex listened to the wet, guttural gasps of the dying man. He twitched and flopped around, like a fish on a dock, until going still.

_ “Dex, what's your location? We heard a single shot fired,”  _ Alvarez said through his radio.

Dex stalked through the room and stood over the dead man, his eyes staring up in lifeless surprise. “The last assailant has been found. He turned his gun on me, I had no choice. He's gone.”

_ “Then the area is secure. I have half a mind to chew you out for breaking rank, but we'll deal with that later. I'll have medical come up and take Nadeem and McClung. You'd better get back here. It looks like McClung was hit worse than we thought.” _

Dex blinked, coming down from the excitement. He'd forgotten the reason he was using to justify his actions were Ray and Zoe getting hit. Deep down he knew he didn't do it for them. He enjoyed killing the perp.

**Excessive.**

That's what Zoe had said to him before. Killing a man who hadn't even had the hope of escaping the warehouse certainly qualified as lethal force. What she didn't know wouldn't kill her...but that bullet to the side might. He turned on his heels and started back to regroup with his squad, all while trying to extinguish the guilt burning in his chest.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writing action sequences isn't my forte, so I hope this wasn't too painful a read. For those of you asking about a Zoe POV chapter, it's in the works. I just so happen to have multiple chapters written in advance so I can keep on track with updates and editing, so it's coming soon. Thanks again to those comments and kudos. Comment and like below, and follow along with the journey while we patiently wait for someone to renew the TV show!


	5. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the shooting

_ Trauma team to emergency stat. _

The energy at the ER was buzzing. Nurses were running to try and keep up with the demand of patients being brought in, and there was a room full of people bitching to be seen. 

This wasn't the first time Dex had been to the ER at Mercy Hospital, but the frequency didn't make it any easier. He hated hospitals. Maybe it was the smell of the chemical cleaners. Bleach and citrus wafted into the air, but he doubted if it actually got rid of the microscopic stains. His skin crawled. This was a building where people died on a daily basis. He didn't believe in ghosts or the supernatural, but the thought of all of the lives lost here over the years didn't exactly fill him with joy.

The civilians in the waiting room watched him and the other agents cautiously. Their being there had everyone on alert, some scouring their phones to try and find an answer to the FBI's presence there. Agents had been injured in action before, but it always caused a stir in the public.

Nadeem had been taken back to be seen for his wounds, and Zoe had been rushed into emergency surgery the moment the ambulance had arrived. Dex along with Harrow had helped get her to the ambulance. Her skin had gone white, with a blue tinge to her lips, and she had complained about being cold. All signs of blood loss. Dex hadn't been able to tell how bad she was bleeding, but she had felt like a stone to carry; deadweight with no strength left to support herself.

Hattley and most of the other agents had stayed back at the warehouse while the suspects were taken into custody. The perp he had killed had been carted off under a sheet on a stretcher by first responders. What he would state in his report would be analyzed with strict attention, it always was when he was the cause of death. He'd probably have to chat with the bureau's appointed psychiatrist as well. That was the worst of it. Sitting across from some suit made him remember Dr. Mercer, and resent her absence.

Thoughts of reports and regulations were far from his mind. His first focus was Zoe. Coming down from the thrill of the operation, he felt anxious to hear word on her condition. This must be a side effect of having a friend.

Of course, his first reaction was anger. How could she do something so stupid and reckless? But if she had not stepped in, Ray might have been injured worse than he was. He knew that would be her reasoning.

Seema had arrived earlier and was already with Nadeem in his room. She’d had the sense not to bring their son into this environment. Zoe's parents had been contacted, but they had yet to arrive.

“Hey, Dex,” said Alvarez.

He blinked, caught off guard by her interruption. “Hmm, what's the word?”

“McClung's out of surgery, recovering in post-op. They won't say much more than that because I'm not family.”

“She made it through surgery. At least we know,” He responded, crossing his arms.

Alvarez rolled her eyes, looking at him sharply. “Stop being so guarded, I know you're worried about her.”

Dex frowned, not liking the implication behind her words. He was about to retort when Agent Harrow came between them with urgency.

“The McClungs are here,” He said, indicating to the older, suburban-looking couple standing fearful at the front desk.

“Good, maybe we can find out more about her prognosis,” said “Alvarez. “C’mon Dex. You know Zoe better than I do. I think they'll want to talk to a friend of their daughter's rather than another agent.”

Did he really know her better? They were friends, but it was a loose term in his mind. All he knew about Zoe was what she elected to tell him. Granted, that was a fair amount, but he'd never gone out of his way to do any exploring of his own.

He went with Alvarez to speak with Zoe's parents. As they approached the desk, he noticed immediately how much Zoe took after her mother. They had the same heart-shaped face, auburn hair, and warm brown eyes with the pensive stare. Zoe was taller than her mother. Her height she got from father, who was a silver-haired gentleman with the same straight nose and widow's peak hairline. The concern they felt for their daughter was plain on both of their faces.

“Mr. and Mrs. McClung, I'm Special Agent Alvarez. This is my colleague, Special Agent Poindexter. We were hoping for an update on Zoe.”

Dex watched as Mrs. McClung let out a shaky breath, and held out her hand as if reaching for him. “Oh Ben, Zoe's talked about you before. I'm glad you're here for her. The doctors said they had to give her four units of blood, and they've managed to stop the bleeding. She's going to be taken up to the third floor once she's out of recovery.”

“That's fantastic news,” said Alvarez, grabbing Dex’s arm when he didn't respond. 

All he could bring himself to do was nod. He kept pondering over Mrs. McClung's words. Zoe had told her parents about him. Why would she do that?

“You alright son?” Mr. McClung asked. He was a blue-collar man, dressed in faded jeans and an old flannel shirt. With his height, he cut an imposing figure, but it wasn't his size that caused Dex to get clammy palms.

Dex let out a sigh. “It's been a really hard night. I'm glad your daughter is safe.”

The answer seemed to satisfy both of the McClungs. They held onto each others hand for support, looking exhausted from their rush to the city from New Jersey. Dex’s mind wandered to his parents. Had they held hands? He quickly banished the thought.

“Dex, we're needed back for the debriefing,” said Alvarez before turning to the Mcclung's. “If you have any urgent concerns, or if a change happens with Zoe's condition, I urge you to contact Special Agent in Charge, Tammy Hattley.”

“Thank you both for your help,” said Mrs. McClung, clutching the card Alvarez had provided her with as if it were a lifeline.

Dex began his march to the exit, Alvarez trailing behind. She was trying to say something, but it was of no concern to him. He wanted to get the debriefing out of the way and go home to clear his head. It was getting harder to breathe, and he tried to focus on Dr. Mercer's words from before. He had to get back to center. What would Julie be doing right now? 

There would be no time left once the debrief finished. It was already early morning, and all agents who worked on the raid would be sent home for the day. Dex felt in a state of exhaustion that made him almost too tired to sleep. 

When he got to the doors of the hospital, he stopped. Something was holding him back. It was Zoe. Her parents were here, and her brother was likely on the way. She would be fine. A small part of himself, the part he tried to lock away that was comprised of his fear and hatred of abandonment, it began to unravel. 

_ ‘Death is an inevitability, it can be a beautiful thing.’ _

No, Zoe would be fine. He kept walking.

* * *

After the tedious and time-consuming debrief, it appeared on the surface that the mission was a success. No one was actually present when Dex had killed the shooter, so it was his word against the corpse. Still, he was prepared for the inevitable sessions he would have to share with the doctor to declare him fit for duty.

He'd left the office without a word to anyone, going straight home to shower the night off himself. No one had heard anything more on Zoe, and he took no news as good news. 

When he was surrounded by the black and white of his apartment, his mind started to buzz. He'd pulled out his phone, just staring at it as it sat uselessly on his table. When he messaged Zoe, she'd always answer. Sometimes her responses were sent in such haste, he wondered if she had been hoping for him to reach out. There was no one there waiting on the other end of the line this time.

He should have been sleeping to get his body back on track for work the following day. The drapes were shut, casting his bedroom in shadows. He'd even lied down, only to immediately sit up the moment his head had touched the pillow as if it were something contagious. If he stayed awake the rest of the day then he could sleep through the night. That was his rationale anyway, and he repeated it to himself again when he got to the hospital.

Mrs. McClung had said Zoe would be moved to the third floor. He rode the elevator up, crammed in shoulder to shoulder with the scrubs, and the visitors worried about their own family members. It was quieter on the ward than in the emergency. The cheerful face of a middle-aged woman greeted him at the front desk. Her grey hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she filled the chair she occupied. Dex could see the stress in her eyes. She must get tired of using that fake smile.

“May I help you, sir?” She asked.

“I'm looking for a patient's room, Zoe McClung.”

Her bright fingernails tapped away on the keyboard. “Yes, unit 3A, room 16. You'll want to go back down that hallway and take a right.”

“Thanks,” Dex said shortly, pushing away from the desk as he followed the directions back. 

The floor of the unit was bustling with nurses working at a rushed pace. Med carts and linen shelves narrowed the space, and Dex had to duck out of the way to avoid one of the orderly’s with a stretcher. He eyed each number on the passing rooms carefully until he reached 16 at the end of the hall. Hattley had chosen not to put a guard on duty, seeing no further threat now that the case was closed. 

He'd been obsessing over Zoe's condition since leaving the hospital, but now that he had returned, he wondered if he'd made a mistake coming. Maybe her parents wanted time spent alone with her to recuperate. Having never known that bond with a parent, he couldn't understand the connection. The selfish part of him wanted to see Zoe. He'd made the trip back here and he wouldn't squander the opportunity. He went inside.

To his relief, his presence wasn't immediately noticed. Mrs. McClung was asleep in the chair in the corner, and Mr. McClung wasn't in the room. His eyes drifted over to Zoe as he shut the door quietly behind him. She was draped in one of the heavy pink flannel blankets that hospitals never seemed to run out of. An empty bag of blood hung on the IV pole beside her bed, and now clear fluids were running through the line to her arm. She had a plastic cannula giving her oxygen through her nose, the same one Dr. Mercer had been forced to use with her portable O2 tank. The sight of it made him feel uncomfortable with remembrance. 

He took a moment to breathe before claiming the chair beside her bed for himself. Her breaths were deep, and he watched the rise and fall of her chest. It seemed his own breathing began to mimic hers, falling into the same hypnotic pattern, like a trance. He didn't realize that Zoe had opened her eyes until she spoke.

“What are you doing here, Dex?” Her words were groggy, but she smiled at him.

His eyes met hers, and they were clouded with a vulnerability that he had never seen before. “Guard duty. Hattley's afraid they'll come back to finish the job.”

“Funny,” She said, closing her eyes again. “I thought you were David.”

Dex frowned. “Who's David?”

“My brother. His flight from Memphis was delayed. My dad's been trying to reach him. He might as well not bother coming now. I'll pull through, I'm just tired.”

“Hope it was worth it to be so reckless,” said Dex. “What do you have to show for it?”

“A lifelong friend in Ray I expect, and two scars. Bullet wound and surgical incision. They're going to look so ugly.”

Dex didn't think scars were unappealing, but he did have a morbid curiosity to see what hers looked like. Perhaps when she was healed he could ask. 

“You should go home and rest,” said Zoe.

“No, I just came from there.”

“And you came all the way back here? Better be careful Dex, you're turning into a real friend.”

Dex looked down at his hands, silently disagreeing with her in his mind.

“What happened to the last shooter?”

“He raised his gun at an agent,” said Dex. “He was killed before he could be taken into custody.”

He glanced up to find Zoe studying him. Her eyes were clear. “By you?”

Dex gave a single nod.

“Hmm,” Zoe hummed. 

She shut her eyes again and laid her hand out across the bed with her palm face up in invitation. It seemed his body knew what she wanted before his head did. On instinct, he covered Zoe's hand with his own. She gave it a weak squeeze.

“Stay for a while,” She whispered.

Words would have failed him, so he didn't speak anymore. Instead, Dex squeezed back and remained in his chair at her side.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys haven't been following #SaveDaredevil on Twitter or Instagram, get on that because this fandom is amazing, and it's swarmed with all kinds of artwork, fics, and general appreciation for these characters. I am truly glad to be in the #Fandomwithoutfear. Thanks again for those kudos, comments, and subscribers. Next chapter is from Zoe's POV and I am so excited for you guys to read it.


	6. Wallpaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe's POV in the present, and back when she was injured from the shooting.

_The Present..._

Zoe stood in the center of her apartment, surrounded by boxes, and lost on what to do next. That had been her bad habit as of late. She was getting evicted from her apartment, and she was officially unemployed. After the corruption had been routed from the bureau, she had been offered her old position back from her paid leave. Instead, she had turned in her gun and badge. Truly, she had enjoyed her career as an agent. She had set out to do good, only she had been stupid enough to believe everyone else had held the same ideation. Ray had thought like her too, and look where that had landed him.

After Fisk, she became disillusioned with the entire bureau, and with herself. Dex had ruined her with what he had become. With what he had done.

She dropped into a chair in her living room, the weight of the reminder crashing down hard. All of the things that belonged to the Dex she remembered she had kept, and were packed away in a box. It was a project she had started when he was still there, at least in the physical sense. The Special Agent Poindexter she had known had been missing long before he had vanished from Hell's Kitchen. If she ever had really known him at all, and not just what he'd wanted her to believe.

That was all behind her now. It had to be if she was to create any semblance of a fresh start. Beginning again in her parents' basement back in Jersey wasn't exactly the dream she had envisioned, but she didn't have anywhere else to go. David had offered of course, but she didn't want to crash his life in Memphis, and it was too far away.

She didn't have any other friends, not ones left alive. After Ray's murder, Seema had taken Sami and left Hell's Kitchen to be with family. Most of the other agents she had been familiar with were either dead or had been on Fisk's payroll. Despite Hattley coming forward with the truth, she was just as culpable. For her to move on, Zoe had to ice the FBI out completely.

The once bright colors of her apartment now seemed dulled by the months wasted on lies and disappointment. She had been trying hard for a bohemian feel. Dex had never liked it. Her hands tightened into fists, and she pushed up from her seat. No matter how she tried to lock him away, she carried him around like a disease. She didn't know what she felt for him anymore, but she also knew she couldn't just wish him away from her thoughts. A heart was a burden of being human.

Was there anything she could have done to stop him? It was a question she had agonized over the moment she had found out the horrible truth. Only Dex could have answered it for her. She hated her own conclusion, and she doubted he would have been kinder. Best not go there again.

Her side ached, and she leaned up against the table. She ran a hand under her shirt, touching the uneven surfaces of the scars that had never fully faded. If the bullet had been an inch higher, she would not have survived. Was it luck, or divine intervention? It certainly wasn't a blessing. At the moment, she struggled to find meaning in her life. There was a thirst to help someone, anyone, but what could she do? She couldn't even help herself.

It was strange that those scars could surface fond memories. Everything was simpler then. They weren't lost in emotions or the deception of Fisk. It was just her and Dex in the FBI, and they were friends. 

* * *

Zoe had been in the hospital for three days since recovering from her surgery. She had started off with having a bad reaction to the anesthetic. When she had woken up, nausea had hit her like a train, followed by vomiting into the garbage can her dad had been swift to shove into her face. Nothing like waking up to her parents' worried faces while dry-heaving. She was glad her stomach had settled by the time Dex had come to visit. He didn't strike her as the hovering type, so she had been surprised to find him at her bedside, and maybe just a bit excited if she was admitting anything.

Ray had been by to see her, and he had brought Seema along. It was the first time Zoe had met Mrs. Nadeem, and she lived up to all of Ray's stories around the office. She was strong and capable when looking out for her family, a perfect spouse to an FBI agent, not to mention gorgeous. To show her gratitude for keeping her husband safe, she had made Vindaloo. Zoe would have loved to try it if she hadn't been stuck on a clear fluids diet. Three days of it now, and she couldn't stand to see another jello cup.

“Zoe, eat something,” David urged.

His flight itinerary from Memphis had eventually straightened out and he had arrived just in time to be a pain in her ass. Not that she wasn't close with her brother, but he could be such a mother hen, worse than her parents in fact.

He was staying at a hotel in the city, which meant he could relieve their parents from having to make the drive from Jersey. Since his move to Memphis, Zoe hardly ever saw him except during holidays. She almost didn't recognize him when he showed up wearing a fedora, with his brown hair grown past his ears. He was thin as a rail, and his black clothing made him look as pale as Dracula.

“This hardly counts as eating,” She complained.  “Jello, and vegetable broth, which by the way, tastes like salted water.”

“That's your feast for the night. If you keep eating, you'll get released sooner probably.”

The old eat to recover your strength bit was something all of the nurses kept telling her. It was worse coming from her brother.

“Fine,” She grumbled, taking her plastic spoon and dipping it into the lukewarm broth. There was just enough taste that cut through the blandness, but it wasn't anything palatable. She let out a moan as she swallowed it down.

“That good, huh,” David teased.

She shook her head furiously. “I need to get out of here and back to work.”

“And you will, once you've been given a clean bill. Be patient, the FBI will be alright without you,” said David. “Except for maybe Poindexter.”

Zoe blinked, setting down her jello cup that she had been about to try. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I just thought you were making friends outside of work, that's all.” David shrugged, looking down at his black t-shirt.

“I do have friends,” She was quick to defend, realizing it must have sounded the exact opposite. She tried to explain it to him in a way he'd understand.“It's just not easy with how demanding my job is. Besides, it's encouraged to build good interpersonal relationships. The bureau is a second family.”

“If you say so.”

It was unfortunate that immediately after that, the door opened before she could get another word in. What was worse was it was Dex who came to visit. Of course, she wasn't too surprised. Like clockwork the previous two days he had arrived at this same time after leaving from work.

From the first moment they had met, David had taken a disliking to Dex. It was bizarre to see her brother size someone up as if looking for a fight. He was supposed to be the pacifist in the family. Dex didn't seem bothered by the disdain. He'd stare back blankly, sometimes throwing in his dead smirk that Zoe had witnessed around work. It made her uneasy.

“Poindexter, you're back. Again.” David shot her an unimpressed expression that she brushed off.

“David, it's nice to see you again,” Dex responded.

Zoe could feel the tension rising in the room, and she sought to cut it. “Hey, Dex. How's work been?”

Dex's eyes darted to her, and he seemed to forget all about her brother. “Ray's been cleared to return to work tomorrow.”

Zoe threw her head back into the thin pillows and let out a groan. “Already? And I'm stuck here, eating my ninth jello cup in two days.” She didn't even know the flavors anymore and had started referring to them by color.

“Alright, I'm going to get a coffee,” David interrupted, bolting up from his seat. He side-eyed Dex as he brushed past. “She's in a terrible mood. Good luck.”

Unfazed, Dex dropped into a chair, hands still in his pockets and his legs stretched far apart. He appeared lost in thought, and Zoe could never tell what he was thinking. She was delighted that he had even entertained the notion of being her friend, but he was still such a closed book. Her mind always had questions, but she didn't dare ask. He was the kind to spook easily, like a squirrel.

“You look better,” He said eventually.

She wasn't on oxygen anymore, and she could get up to use the washroom. The staff even let her wear her own pajama pants underneath the oversized hospital gown. Besides having to get her dressing changed daily, she felt ready to go home to her apartment.

“Can you tell that to my Doctor? I'm going stir crazy here, and I miss work.”

“I should warn you that Hattley has a welcome back party planned for you and Ray when you officially return. Act surprised when we serve you vanilla sheet cake.”

“I'd kill for sheet cake right now,” She said before jack-knifing up from her side. “Hey, want to smuggle me out of here?”

Dex shot her a look like she was bonkers. “No, I'm not doing that.”

“C'mon Dex,” She urged with a grin. “Be my partner in crime, just this once.”

“Tempting,” He said while looking far too serious. “Lift your arms above your head.”

She huffed, understanding his point, but she could make one as well. Out of sheer stubbornness, she began to lift her arms, all the while she was clenching her teeth and holding in a scream.

“Yeah, that's what I thought.” Dex shook his head, but her actions appeared to amuse him.

A puff of air escaped her, and she let her arms fall back to her sides. “Fine, one more night here. It's not as if I'm missed at the office anyway.”

“That's not true,” said Dex.

Zoe's eyes widened. “Hattley's finally come around has she? I knew I'd wear her down.”

Dex suppressed a grin. “That's exactly what happened.”

“Seriously though, if you say you're the only one who's noticed I'm not there, that's going to bum me out.”

“Alright, I won't,” said Dex before looking at his watch. He frowned, not liking what he saw apparently.

“Somewhere else you need to be?”

“First scheduled appointment with the shrink before I can be cleared for duty.” To say he was unimpressed would be an understatement. He practically oozed with annoyance.

“Hmm, suppose I'll have my fair share in that deal after I'm done here. It's just as much of a headache getting shot as it is to pull the trigger.”

“Did you ever have to back in Jersey?” He asked.

“No, but I've been to a therapist before.” She regretted the admission the moment it slipped out and clammed up immediately.

Dex had his eyes trained on her, and she wondered if this was what it felt like to be on the business end of his rifle. “What for?”

“Doesn't matter now,” She said, waving her hand in a relaxed motion, but she wouldn't meet his stare. “It was a long time ago.”

“Fair enough,” He replied, not pressing the issue. Either that, or he couldn't get the sense of her trepidation on the matter. Something Zoe had picked up on was how quick he was to shy away from another person's problems. He didn't seem to care.

“See you soon Dex,” said Zoe. “Hopefully back at the office.”

“I doubt it. It will be back to your apartment, surrounded by that ugly wallpaper until you're cleared for duty, same as me.”

“Don't remind me,” She retorted. After her release from the hospital, she would be doing more waiting, one thing she was bad at.

Dex opened the door to find David standing out in the hall, a coffee in his hand and a nervous furrow in his brow. He tried to put on a face that said he hadn't been eavesdropping, but Zoe knew better. Dex did too, judging by the smirk he gave her brother.

“David,” He taunted in passing.

Her brother watched him go before turning a look of disbelief on her. “Why are you friends with that guy? He's weird as shit.” He moved into the room, taking the seat that Dex had occupied. His hand shook as he took the top off of his coffee. Zoe gave a small, sad smile. Her brother needed to go back to Memphis, but she knew he wouldn't. Not as long as she was in this place.

“David, I'm weird too,” She said, and not to garner pity. It was simply the truth.

David continued to talk, but his voice started to fade into white noise. Zoe sat back in the hospital bed, crossing her legs to keep from fidgeting. It was something Dex had said. She tried to ignore it, convincing herself that maybe he had misspoken or she had misunderstood. It wasn't adding up in her mind, no matter how she spun it. He had never been inside her apartment, so how did he know she had wallpaper?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I loved writing for Zoe, and from here on out, I want to try to have alternating chapters between her and Dex, unless of course, the story requires me to stay in one mindset. Hope you guys liked the first glimpse into her head. Kudos, comment and subscribe for more!


	7. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dex goes to the Therapist and reflects on a past appointment with Doctor Mercer.

It was his first appointment with the bureau's therapist, and any indignation he might have been previously feeling was gone. Most of the introduction phase with the Doc, Dex had spent in autopilot. He kept going over his slip up, hoping to Hell Zoe hadn't picked up on it, but accepting that she probably had. She had that way of dissecting everything he said or did, and she wasn't suffering exhaustion from her injury any longer. 

That ugly wallpaper in her apartment. He knew it was there because he had laid his eyes on it the past few nights. She kept a spare key in her drawer at work, so the argument could be made that he hadn't broken in. Sleep had not been possible at his own home, despite the use of his tapes, or cleaning. He'd even resorted to sedation with meds, but that had only made him numb, and worn out the following day at work. 

Surrounding himself with Zoe, even if it wasn't her presence had worked. He hadn't searched through any of her things, and while he had wanted to tidy up the clutter, he had refrained. She might have noticed order brought to her chaos just the same as when he had a dish out of place. He did keep her mail in an organized pile though.

The whole place was a bohemian nightmare. Floral wallpaper and burgundy paint encapsulated the living room. Not one piece of furniture matched. She had a wicker chair with an oversized cushion in the corner, and a grey futon facing the television. Even the end tables were two different types of wood. The building was old and smelt like tomato sauce. Once the door shut behind him, Zoe's apartment was like a potpourri of mint and sage. She had a shelf filled with bottles of essential oils and a diffuser. He'd read that some scents were calming, and healed the mind and body, but he didn't want to test that theory by invading her private effects. 

The first visit there he wasn't sure what his purpose had been. He'd been trying to discover a new way of learning more about her without having to ask. Ever since she had gotten shot, and he had met her parents, he questioned whether he knew her as well as everyone assumed. Zoe would have told him anything he wanted, but that wasn't the best way for him. He felt more comfortable discovering things on his own terms, just like he had with Julie. It was invasive and strange, but it worked for him.

What he had found out so far was her taste in literature. He observed all of the titles on her shelf in her bedroom. She had them arranged by author, but that's where any organization ended. Majority of the books were about true crime and serial killers. That probably startled a few friends away, but Dex saw it as another connection to her old job in New Jersey. He didn't have an answer to why her interests laid there, but it was a good starting off point. She boasted a fair share of fantasy novels as well, but they weren't as worn by rereads.

The pictures on her wall were of her family, some when she was still young. Dex didn't stare at them for too long. Children happy with their parents always brought about painful feelings of inadequacy and resentment. He didn't want to taint this place with his dark thoughts. 

Eventually, he had found his way over to her bed. The blue paisley quilt was still pulled tight from corner to corner since the last time the bed had been made up. He took his spot carefully, lying down slow as if afraid to disturb the peace in the room. Her bed was softer than his. If he had to guess, he'd say the sheets were an organic fiber, and they'd been washed recently in a natural detergent. 

As he had stared up at her popcorn ceiling, his mind began to wander back to the same question he still had no answer to. What was Zoe to him? He was lying in her bed, and his heart sped up at the thought. His eyes had begun to flutter, and he had drifted off with a better understanding. 

“Dex, are you alright?”

His name was being called, and he looked up at the concerned face of the therapist. He'd forgotten he was still there.

“Sorry Doc,” He said while rubbing a hand down his face. “What were you saying?”

“I was inquiring about whether or not you've been having difficulty coping at work since the shooting. Any trouble sleeping?”

“No, everything's been moving along fine. I've been too busy to think about it. You know how it is after something like this happens, we don't stop. As for sleep, it's the same as always; seven hours every night. “

“That's great, Dex,” The Doc said as he wrote down on his note paper. “And besides these mandatory visits, is there someone in your life who you can talk to? A close friend or a partner?”

“With my job, it's very hard to have time for a relationship,” He said. Many times he had thought about bringing up Julie, but he wasn't ready for anyone to know about her yet.

“Of course, but many agents have managed to balance a hectic work schedule with a family. I don't want a busy work life to discourage you from finding a meaningful relationship.”

_ Relationship _ .

He had talked with Dr. Mercer about this before, when he was young and curious, and captivated by a girl.

* * *

 

At sixteen, Dex was not well adjusted like most boys his age. He was very aware of his flaws and what set him apart from his peers. These weren't problems that he dwelled on, but as he sat across from Dr. Mercer in her office, he could feel his leg bouncing away like a jackhammer. He could drill a well in her floor if he kept at it.

“What's troubling you today, Dex? You appear more anxious than you were our last session?” Dr. Mercer asked softly. She adjusted the plastic tubing under her nose. Her hair had grown thinner in recent weeks, and her movements had slowed. Dex tended to ignore the signs, convincing himself she would get better.

“I've been thinking about relationships,” He said, lowering his voice as if it were a bad secret.

“Relationships? In what context? You and I have a relationship, classified under doctor and patient. After all these years, I would also consider us friends, which is another relationship.”

Dex rubbed his hands together as she trained her pensive eyes on him. “No, I mean like dating.”

“So romantic entanglements?” Dex scrunched his face at the phrasing. “What's your inquiry?”

“Is it possible for someone like me to..?” He ran a hand through his hair, not able to look directly at Dr. Mercer. He thought of the girl who worked at the greeting card store, how dark her hair was and how much money he had wasted on birthday cards he didn't need. “Date?”

Dr. Mercer appeared thoughtful. “I think you could thrive in a relationship with the correct partner, but relationships are difficult. One individual does not take precedence over the other. Sacrifices are made to benefit both sides of the relationship, and it can be a struggle to surrender power. I would caution you that your personality type would serve as a barrier to you forming a meaningful connection. What purpose would you want out of a relationship? Are marriage or children something you would consider in your future?”

Dex shrugged while tugging at his sleeve. “No. I'd want to be with someone so I wouldn't be alone. Isn't that why people get married?”

“I don't believe that. Many people marry for love.”

Dex didn't blink. He couldn't get the feeling to fit. “But you're not married. Aren't you lonely?”

“Never,” said Dr. Mercer fiercely. “My passion and my love are in my work. My patients are an extension of my family.”

“But what about having a husband? Don't you wish you had someone to be with?”

“I think you're branching off more onto the topics of sexuality and touch. It's one of the five senses, and touch nurtures us the moment we are brought into this world. Used positively, it is a pleasing stimulant that we thrive on, and it's only natural to crave for it. It is as much of a biological need as it is psychological. I think it is important to stress that touch must be consensual. You should never do something that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

“But what about all the meds I take?” Dex asked, his voice cracking. “I've read that they can hinder...performance. What if I can't...what if I'm unable to…” He couldn't bring himself to say what was on his mind, and he was breathing rapidly. 

Dr. Mercer arose from her chair, faster than he thought she'd be able to in her condition. Her oxygen tubing unfurled behind her as she came to kneel before Dex, taking his hands in her own with care. “Breathe, Dex, you need to breathe.”

Tears gathered in his eyes, and his face was probably red from choking on air. Always she went on about his progress, but it seemed to him that as soon as they corrected one error, two more popped up. His mind was like a computer infected with malware. 

“Dex, I want you to listen to me. If you ever forget everything else we've accomplished, I want you to remember to never sacrifice your own well being for gratification of any kind. I want you to be happy, and to look after yourself because I think you have a lot to contribute to this world. The right person will understand this, and never ask that of you.”

He nodded, unable to come up with words after his embarrassing fit. Dr. Mercer let his hands drop back onto his lap before returning to her chair. Now she was the one out of breath. “I'd like to assign you an exercise to complete before our next session. Every day, write down one thing you consider to be an important part of a relationship. You're a young man, so I know this curiosity won't go away overnight. I'd like to help it along, to foster a positive outlook for your future.”

Dex smiled, his mind already turning back to greeter card girl. With Dr. Mercer's help, he could be able to get her. For now, watching her from behind the window would have to suffice.

* * *

 

He could still remember the list of words he had given to Dr. Mercer, the black ink of the page as clear to him now as the stars on a cloudless night. The more he thought about them, the more he realized they fit Zoe. He wanted her, and he didn't care what Dr. Mercer's warnings had been. He'd find a way to make that happen, and fuck the rest.

“I think you're right, Doc,” said Dex, his mouth growing with a smirk. 

“Hmm, about what?” The therapist asked, peering up over his notebook.

“I think it's the perfect time for me to start a relationship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just curious, what words do you think made it onto Dex's list about what's important in a relationship? I have my own in mind, but I definitely want to know what you guys think. Next chapter we're back to Zoe. Stay tuned and kudos, comment and subscribe!


	8. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe returns to work and notices a change in Dex

Zoe had returned to work two days after her discharge home from the hospital. In hindsight, it was probably too soon. Scratch that, she knew it was because the doctors had stressed she should remain on bed rest for another week. She'd given it the old college try, but two days at home on the couch and she'd run out of ways to entertain herself. Solitaire can only be fun for so long, and she wasn't able to follow a TV show without losing interest. She wasn't due to get the stitches removed until next week, so that left out any physical activity. Her apartment had become a prison.

The following day Zoe had strode into Hattley's office and had (much to her shame) begged to let her return. A smirking Hattley had agreed, appeasing her request by putting her on light desk duty. It didn't require her to pull a lot of strings. After the gun bust, there was no new case and everyone was stuck jockeying their desks. 

Zoe was content to be filling out paperwork, as mundane as it was, it gave her day purpose. Being surrounded by her colleagues had improved. Your name got thrown around the office a bunch after taking a bullet for another agent as she found out. People were coming up to her all morning, some she had suspected didn't know who she was up until now. The change was unsettling, and she missed having some of her anonymity.

Through all of the change, Dex had been absent. He was at work of course as Zoe couldn't recall him ever missing a day, but he had been hanging back from her. The only conversation they had had was his odd excuse that he had been in her apartment to collect her mail. She had figured that from the neat little pile found in her kitchen. It was strange that he had felt the need to take her spare key from her desk just to do that, but she had accepted the excuse as a part of his design to systemize everything. 

His distance was difficult to ignore, but his gaze made up for the space he put between them. Zoe would catch him looking at her, eyes sharp and curious like he was seeing her for the first time. She could feel his stare, catching a glimpse of it in either her peripheral or a reflective surface. Did he think she wasn't looking, or did he not care if he got caught in the act? Whatever it was, Zoe wished he'd drop it and go back to being her friend. 

When the afternoon rolled in, Hattley stepped out of her office to call everyone into the conference room. What many had hoped to be a change of pace in work turned out to be a meaningless interruption for dessert. One survey of the room and you could measure the disappointment. On the long table sat a white sheet cake with the words  _ Welcome back _ written in blue icing. Zoe no longer had her hospital hunger, and she would have to share in the misfortune of choking down a slice. 

“Ray, I know this is a little overdue, but we wanted to wait for McClung's return before welcoming you both back,” said Hattley as she commanded the room. “When an agent is injured in the field, their absence is felt by all of us. Zoe and Ray, you both showed your highest quality and represented the bureau with bravery and dignity. Welcome back.”

The room erupted into a steady clap, and Hattley cut the cake. Ray and Zoe were served the first pieces, and it was easy to see there had been expenses spared on the dessert. It was layer upon layer of sugar, and it seemed to stick in the back of Zoe's throat as she tried to swallow.

“How's the cake?” Ray asked, holding back a grin as he stood beside her.

“I feel like I'm being punished for being shot,” Zoe replied. She speared another piece of cake on her fork and held it up to her face. “Smells like diabetes.”

“Tastes like it too,” Ray said between bites. 

They were standing off in a corner, away from the rest of the room despite the celebration being held for them. Once again, Dex was nowhere to be found. Zoe sat her cake down on the table, having no appetite left to finish her dessert.

“Are you feeling alright?” asked Ray.

_ Not really.  _ “Just tired. I probably pushed it too much coming back to work today.” She crossed her arms in front of herself, feeling vulnerable. 

Ray nodded. He discarded his cake as well when suddenly his eyes widened in concern. “I don't want to alarm you, but you're bleeding through your shirt.”

Zoe's eyes dropped to the bottom right of her blouse and winced. Sure enough, a warm, wet spot of red had formed against the crisp white. This wasn't the first shirt she had ruined since coming home, but the rotten luck of it happening at work had her convinced someone didn't want her here today.

“Goddammit,” She cursed, fighting back tears of frustration. “I don't have anything else to wear.”

“C' mon, I think I can help,” said Ray. He led her through the office, making sure he walked close in front of her to conceal the stain from the prying eyes of their colleagues. Zoe followed without question, all while trying in vain to blot away the blood with one of the ‘welcome back’ napkins.

They arrived at Ray's desk. Zoe nearly walked into his back when he stopped abruptly, bending at the waist to dig through the bottom drawer. He came up with a light blue button-down shirt. A few sizes too large for her, but she took it into her hands, never more glad to be offered something 100% polyester. 

“You keep an extra shirt in your desk?”

Ray laughed. “Seema's idea.”

“It's a smart one,” Zoe complemented. “I think we could all use a Seema.”

“I'll tell her you said so. Honestly, I've never had use for it until now.”

“You're sure you don't mind?”

“I've got a dozen more like it at home. Take it,” Ray encouraged. “After all, you did get that injury because of me.”

Zoe cracked a smile. “I guess this makes us even now.”

“You got off easy. I'll have to go home and explain to Seema why I need a new desk shirt.”

Zoe laughed. It felt like she hadn't done that in a while, and she hoped it was a sign that things would return to normal. She just needed Dex to resume their friendship, and everything would be peachy keen.

Holding the newly acquired shirt in front of herself, Zoe headed for the bathroom. She passed the questioning faces with her head down, breezing through the office faster than Agent Lim when the dim sum food truck was in the area. There was no one else in any of the stalls when she got there. Some luck at last.

Once she got her soiled blouse off, she took a look at the wound. It was the surgical scar that kept opening and seeping at the top. The doctor had warned her away from too much strenuous activity. Sitting at her desk and eating cake hardly qualified, but her body said otherwise. Letting out a grunt, she packed the wound with tissue paper and slipped into the fresh shirt. Even tucked into her skirt, and with the sleeves rolled up it was still baggy on her. She felt like a child playing dress up in her dad's clothes.

Zoe exited the cubicle with her folded up blouse tucked away under her arm. She didn't want anyone to notice her change in attire, but the chances of that were slim. Mustering up what scant amount of bravery there was left, she grabbed the handle of the door and made her way back to the office. Her journey was short-lived, as she let out a gasp at Dex cornering her by the door.

His eyes searched down her body in a way that made her want to go back and hide in her cubicle. “Nice shirt, though I think that's more Ray's color.”

Her eyes narrow, and she straightened her stance. “He told you?” Dex nodded, and Zoe let out a puff of air. “So what, you're his co-conspirator now?”

“No, I'm just your ride,” Dex said, taking a step towards her.

She had to resist taking a step back. This wasn't her favorite feeling, being uncomfortable around her friend.

“Ride to where?”

“Home. Hattley's orders. You're done for the rest of the week.”

“So much for everyone being glad to see me,” She muttered, hugging her blouse to her chest. “I can just call a cab. No need to trouble yourself.”

“And risk you bleeding all over a yellow cab? Not a chance.”

Dex moved forward and took her hand in his. Zoe held her breath, caught off guard by the contact. One thing about their friendship was there was no hugging or hand touching of any kind. Him initiating this connection was breaching a barrier, but she couldn't decide if it was a good thing or not. It wasn't that his hand was unpleasant to hold. His palm was warm and rough as a man's should be. The impression of his touch was something else. It was controlling and possessive. Zoe wanted to break away, but she didn't want to hurt Dex by causing a scene. She was probably misreading the whole situation anyway. The thought brought her little comfort.

He was patient enough to walk in a stride she could keep up with to the elevator. Once the doors shut in front of them, Zoe thought Dex would have dropped her hand. His hold didn't relent until she gave a slight tug.

“Sorry,” He murmured, sidestepping into the corner of the elevator. 

Her expression softened. “How have you been? I feel like I've hardly seen you since I got back.”

“Zoe, you've only been here for four hours. I had reports to finish that Hattley's been breathing down my neck to get done.”

When he put it like that, she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing with him being distant. It was her first day back, and everything pointed to that decision being a mistake. She felt foolish. 

“I didn't realize,” She said, slapping a hand over her forehead. “I should have just stayed home.”

“You're getting me out of the office for a while. It's definitely more eventful when you're here.”

He grinned as the doors of the elevator parted open to the lobby. Zoe returned the gesture and followed him outside. As the wind swept through her hair, she kept her hands covered in the fabric of her blouse she carried. Her fingers felt stiff and empty without his hand holding hers, and it became clear to her why she had pushed herself to return to work today. It was Dex. Sitting home alone in her apartment, her mind had drifted to him in concern. Was he lonely and missing her? She must have decided he was. Forcing herself back to work, she had risked Hattley, vanilla sheet cake, and a dry cleaning bill, all just to see her friend.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter everyone! A special thanks to all of those comments and kudos, it's good to know my audience is growing and I appreciate the feedback. Next chapter is back to Dex in the present time, so stay tuned, like, comment and subscribe.


	9. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dex discovers something new about Zoe, and Zoe extends an invitation

**The Present...**

Time had become something of an anomaly for Dex. For days or perhaps weeks, he had been resigned to remaining on bedrest. He didn't dare try and move his legs in fear of discovering agony or worse that he would be unable to. The risk of agreeing to the procedure had been great, but pain or death was better than accepting a life doomed to relying on others. He'd been smuggled out from Hell's Kitchen under the cover of darkness, away from persecution and from Zoe. 

Thinking her name, he winced and shut his eyes. Dex had been parted from her long before he sustained his injury from Fisk. His cruelty and chaos had driven her out of his life. Was she safe, or had he made too many enemies that had sought her after his vanishing act? In this place, he was cut off from all knowledge of his previous existence, but he wasn't sure if he was in a hurry to change that.

During the day he was under constant observation from the medical staff. He was given herbal medicine for treatment, and he hadn't ingested anything but the tea they served him. It wasn't as if he had much of an appetite, but he missed coffee. More often than not he had to choke down the mysterious concoction, and each cup tasted different than the last. 

They only spoke Japanese around him, so he had no way of understanding his own progress. Dex didn't care. Either he'd walk again or he'd find his own end. No one would guide his path anymore. He was finished with the concept of a North Star. If his compass wanted to continuously spin, then he'd toss it away and go whichever direction he wanted to. Fisk was right, he was better off without it.

If the surgery was a success and his hopes of walking again made a reality, he struggled to come up with an idea on where to go from there. The world wouldn't have much use for him now that his identity was exposed. For a moment he mourned the loss of his old job in the FBI. Not because he missed his colleagues or even what the job stood for, but because it gave him an excuse to use his skill set. It was people like the Kingpin that had use for his pinpoint accuracy. Smiling to himself in the dark, he played with the fantasy that perhaps he'd have to don a mask again after all.

* * *

 

It had been weeks since Zoe had healed from her injury, and everything around the bureau had settled into comfortable familiarity. She and Dex returned to fostering their friendship over lunch and with whatever spare time they had away from work. For Dex, he continued to struggle with his new found feelings for her, unsure how to put his thoughts into actions.

He had finished his stint with the therapist, no surprise being cleared for duty. Dex was astonished to find that the time had not been a complete waste. The doc couldn't help him as Dr. Mercer had, but it had been a place where he was free to discuss his fantasies about him and Zoe. By the end of the third session, Dex had him convinced that he was in the early stages of an exciting new romance with Zoe. That got them off of topics that Dex wanted to avoid, like how many confirmed kills he had in the military or how he felt about killing the armed man in the warehouse. He never used Zoe's real name or mentioned that she was an agent. Her current alias was “Sophie” and the therapist was under the impression that she was a grade school teacher. Dex smiled thinking about Zoe standing in a classroom. The students would eat her alive.

He had managed to glean some advice from those sessions about how to go about being in a real relationship, but Sophie the teacher was easier to apply that to than Zoe the federal agent. Sometimes he got the feeling that she had picked up on his change in intentions towards her, and that had him taking a step back. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away. It was better to have her as a friend than not in his life at all, at least that's what he had to keep convincing himself off. The desperation was setting in like a bad hunger, and he sought any excuse to touch her, be it a brush of the hand or standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowded elevator. It was never long enough. 

Dex knew he needed something to understand her better, but he couldn't ask her now when she was already showing hesitation about his newfound interest in her. He'd have to resort to his older, but reliable methods.

The office was empty now  Dex had made sure he would be the last one to leave, but not before Zoe had stopped at his desk as she passed by on her way out.

“You're not leaving yet?” She'd asked, hands buried deep in the pockets of her mint green coat.

Dex had stared at her face a moment before answering. “No, I've got stuff to finish up here, and something I want to check out.”

She'd narrowed her eyes at him, not in mistrust, but he could see she was curious. “Alright, well, call me later. I've got something I want to run by you.”

Now Dex was the curious one. After they had said their goodbyes, and he had watched her leave to the safety of a cab through the window, he mulled over what she wanted to ask. Hope bloomed in his chest that it was something regarding just the two of them, but he readjusted his expectations to avoid disappointment. 

The city was dark, and the office was bathed in the low light of his workspace. Dex strode back through the rows of desks towards Hattley's office. The door wasn't locked. She'd never even bothered to close it, assured that her password protected computer would be enough. It wasn't. 

The password to Hattley's computer reset every week, and it had taken Dex numerous trips in and out of her office to try and catch her typing in the code. He tried to plan it when she was alone without rousing the suspicions of another agent. Not all of his excuses were foolproof, and on more than one occasion he surmised that he was getting on her last nerve. The timing was difficult, and sometimes she wouldn't have the need to log back into the computer which meant a wasted trip for him. Other times there would be something obstructing his view and he would only catch the tail end of the word. It wasn't until today that he finally had managed to accomplish what he'd set out for. It was through the reflection of the picture frame on her desk he had caught the fervent movement of her fingers on the keyboard. At some point, the picture must have been moved, because it had not revealed this opportunity to him until now. 

The password was a series of numbers and letters that should have been difficult to memorize, but Dex's mind was sharp and his eyes quick. It had posed no trouble storing the sequence away until he was able to return to his desk and discreetly jot it down for later. 

What he was after was simple. Agents personal records used to be stored as paper filed away, but the bureau had done away with that system years ago. It was probably too easy for people like him to go digging, Dex thought as he entered in the recovered password.

He wouldn't have long before the night staff would arrive to clean. It would look suspicious to anyone if he was found in the SAC's office this late, so he set to work on finding Zoe's file. There wasn't enough time to read over every detail, but he wanted to know her history as an agent and her prior experience in New Jersey. She was always vague on the details when the topic of her transfer was brought up.

Dex's eyes flicked back and forth across the words, devouring what he wanted and filtering out the irrelevant. The usual background information about what he expected to find on an agent was all there. Her time spent at Quantico, the year she graduated, and her experience out in the field. As she wasn't a member of SWAT like he was, there was no history of her killing anyone in the line of duty. Her job had been negotiations and building profiles on UNSUBs. She had extensive knowledge in psychology, a skill that was wasted in her current role.

All of his perusing came to fruition as he read over something that gave him pause. While true Zoe had never killed another, it seemed she had discharged her firearm on an unarmed murder suspect. The individual had even been surrendering when she shot him, seemingly unprovoked. Like Dex, she had been sent to see a bureau appointed therapist, but had been deemed unfit for duty in her present role. She had been put in for a transfer to Hell's Kitchen after that, and from there Dex knew the rest.

Leaning back in Hattley's chair, Dex let out a breath as he drummed the pads of his fingers over the desk. Every possibility in his mind had never added up to Zoe being a potential killer. 

_ 'But you're not put off by the idea' _ , he thought to himself with a smirk.

A familiar buzzing beat against his chest through the pocket of his jacket, and he pulled out his phone to see Zoe's name. It seems he'd taken too long to make good on that promise to call.

"Zoe?" He answered. 

_ "Hey, are you at home?" _ She asked. Dex could hear sounds of the television in the background and imagined she was curled up in her wicker chair.  _ "Dex?" _

"Yeah, sorry. I just got caught up in...reading an interesting book." He took one last look over her picture in her file before closing the program and shutting down Hattley's computer. 

_ "Really? Tell me about it," _ Zoe urged.

He ran a hand back through his blond hair as he pondered how absurd the question was. It's not like he could admit the truth, not yet anyway. "I'll wait until I finish it first. I need to know how it ends."

She let out a sigh as if exhausted by his refusal to play along.  _ "Fine, keep your secrets." _

"Didn't you need to ask me something?" Dex was on the move now, closing the door to Hattley's office behind him and going for his coat on his desk chair. One of the cleaners was getting started, but she paid him no mind. Often there would be agents who stayed late while on a case, so him being there wasn't odd.

_ "Right, about that. I don't want to impose and feel free to say no to this, but my parents wanted to thank you again for helping me after the shooting. They're having dinner this weekend out in Jersey. Ray and Seema are coming as well." _

Dex halted as he stood before the parted elevator doors. Social functions weren't his scene, and being around Zoe's parents would only add the confusion he was already feeling towards her. The doors of the elevator shut again before he could get on, and he leaned forward to press the button down. 

"Your brother won't be there right?"

Zoe breathed a laugh, and it helped him feel less tense.  _ "No, he's far away in Memphis and too cheap to pay the flight for a two-hour dinner." _

Every part of himself wanted to say no, and he already had three different excuses. But he wanted to be a larger part of Zoe's life, and this seemed to be a fortunate opportunity to make that happen. 

"Do I need to bring anything?" He asked, resigning to the corner of the elevator as it sunk down to the ground floor.

_ "Just yourself. I'd appreciate a ride down there with you though. Saves me the embarrassment of riding in the back of the Nadeem's car." _

If nothing else came from the evening, the car ride with Zoe would be nice. "Sure, that's fine."

_ "Great," _ A stretch of silence hung there, but Dex didn't mind. He was comforted by the sounds of her breathing on the other end of the line.  _ "Well, I should let you get back to reading that interesting book. Don't keep me in suspense for too long." _

"I'll try not too," He said with a grin.

_ "Night Dex." _

The call ended as the elevator made the lobby. He walked out into the night of Hell's Kitchen, the phone still pressed to his ear long after Zoe had hung up. It was late, and he fought the urge to drive down through Little Italy passed her apartment. He was starting to have this new hunger to always be near her. It wasn't like the kindness and guidance he craved from Julie, but its pull was just as strong. He had yet to conceive a name for this feeling. Dr. Mercer would have known what it was.

"Goodnight Zoe," Dex said into the empty line before ending the call from his phone. He got into his car and drove towards his apartment. Next time he would take the long route home.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait for this one, but I started a new job and my focus needed to be there. This story was never far from my mind and I will continue to write so long as I have an audience for it. Cheers, and remember to kudos, comment, and subscribe!

**Author's Note:**

> So I recall on my perusing of stories on here that someone commented they were surprised there weren't more fics about Dex, and I had to agree so that's why this is here. It will be a series of Dex's memories, though I plan to get Zoe's POV in to of course. Comment below and let me know your thoughts.


End file.
